Monday, April 5, 2010

Cuckoo - The Song Bird...

O blithe newcomer! I have heard,I hear thee and rejoice:O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird,Or but a wandering Voice?

While I am lying on the grassThy twofold shout I hear;From hill to hill it seems to pass,At once far off and near.

Though babbling only to the valeOf sunshine and of flowers,Thou bringest unto me a taleOf visionary hours.

Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring!Even yet thou art to meNo bird, but an invisible thing,A voice, a mystery;

The same whom in my schoolboy daysI listened to; that CryWhich made me look a thousand waysIn bush, and tree, and sky.

To seek thee did I often roveThrough woods and on the green;And thou wert still a hope, a love;Still longed for, never seen!

And I can listen to thee yet;Can lie upon the plainAnd listen, till I do begetThat golden time again.

O blessed birth! the earth we paceAgain appears to beAn unsubstantial, fairy place,That is fit home for Thee!

-William Wordsworth

It's the Spring Time here. The trees are covered with fresh leaves. A variety of birds could be seen here .Every morning becomes melodious by the sound of cuckoo. I wake up everyday with their sweet sound.No sound can be sweeter than than the sound of Cuckoo !

No comments:

Post a Comment

Favourite Quote

The tragedy of life does not lie in not reaching your goals,The tragedy of life lies in not having goals to reach for.It is not a disgrace not to reach for the stars,But it is a disgrace not to have stars to reach for.